I'm a non-traditional parent. By that I mean that I am not as physically attached and reliant upon my children as a lot of people I know. Don't get me wrong; I love my three kids with all of my heart. I was a stay-at-home mom for 12 years, even homeschooling my children for many of those years. When I allowed them to attend public school, I got a job at their charter school as a Reading Tutor, then substitute teacher, in order to be with them and keep an eye on them. They didn't spend even one minute in daycare, something of which I am immensely proud.
Maybe when I say non-traditional I mean that I do not exist to be a parent and my children do not define me. There is so much more to me than my children. Yes, they are the best part of me, but not the only part. Many parents I know are defined by their relationship with their kids. I am not that girl.
That being said, I was the person who always said she would not be affected when all her children left home. "Bring it," I would say. It will be wonderful and freeing and so darn good to just do whatever I want, whenever I want. No more cares in the world!
First of all, when one is a parent, there is no such thing as EVER having no more cares, from the first moment your first child arrives. From that moment forward, you have cares because you brought a wonderful being into the world and, even when that being or beings becomes an adult, you still worry and you still grieve. And it is horrible and wonderful all at the same time.
Nevertheless, I looked forward to being an empty-nester the same way I look forward to Spring Training: expectantly, longingly, joyfully. But then something unexpected happened: I became an empty-nester and felt none of those things. Oddly enough it was my oldest child to leave the nest last. Even though Joseph had lived in another city for 4 years while attending college, he returned home, as many graduates do, to live with me until he made enough money to move into his own place. Now that he is making almost as much as me, he has spread his wings and flown, much to my chagrin.
As parents, we raise our children to be independent...or at least we should. I am proud that my kids are growing up and they all have good jobs, they make their own decisions, they need me for very little. That means I did a lot of things right and I am grateful. It is still heart wrenching, however, when that day comes...and you are left with only memories of what it used to be like...
I have lived in my home for 24 years. My children have never known another home...and I have never known another home as their mother than the one I currently occupy. As such, this home has so many wonderful memories (and some painful ones). All three of my children learned to walk and talk and read and laugh in this house. They learned to ride bikes and swim and play video games here. This is where they had friends come visit...and sleepover. They had their first crushes here, had their hearts crushed here...crushed my heart here. Everywhere I look there are memories.
While this is not a bad thing, it is a blatant reminder of just how quickly time passes. At first the days were never-ending and I could not wait until those three little ones were in bed so I could have a glass of wine and breathe. But in later years, as I went through a divorce from their father, I spent way too much time thinking only of me and my happiness and a lot got lost in those years. For that, I am eternally sorry and eternally regretful. It is, however, a comfort to know I spent all of their younger years at home with them and I would never, ever trade that for the world. I hope they would say the same.
I'm not sure why I'm surprised that I feel the way I do. After all, I have been a mom for nearly 24 years and it has been a constant barrage of surprises. In fact, the surprises have never ended. I don't know why I thought it would be easy to watch a huge piece of my heart walk out that door -- along with the dining room table -- as well as a ton of hopes, dreams, wishes and heartbreaks. So while it is difficult, I know it is not the end of the world. Joseph is enjoying his new living arrangement immensely and that makes me so happy. It is what every parent should want: for their children to have a much more successful, happy life than they ever had.
So Joseph is fine...and I will be, too.
Leaving the Nest
